Tender Love and Care
by Lucy Kay
Summary: There was no one who could love Minori as much as Mistel did. Entry for the All Hallows' Harvest Prompt!


**Disclaimer:** Things are about to get FREAKY. In a good way? But real disclaimer, I own none of the characters or settings below.

BOO. It's the most wonderful time of the year! Candy, costumes, and creeps. Doesn't get any better than this.

This is my submission for the All Hallows' Harvest Prompt. I adore Halloween, and I love a good scare. I hope this prompt motivates more people to try something eerie! Harvest Moon has a bit of a shortage of horror, so I endorse it whole-heartedly. :)

Thanks for reading!

* * *

Like a feather caught in a torrent of cold wind, Mistel was completely swept away. Weightless, effortlessly stolen from reality. Buoyed by his passion and lifted by a name. There was no right, no wrong. Mysticism and perfection. _She_.

There wasn't a definitive point when he realized it was her. No sappy reminisce, no awkward introduction that was his anchor of their beginning. As far as he was concerned, it had _always_ been Minori. There was nothing before her. No prequel to her existence in his life. At least, nothing that mattered. In that, he was most confident.

Even their names sounded perfect together. Melding their sounds in lovely rhythm. _Minori – Mistel_. It was divine. Fate had chosen them to be flawlessly matched.

This little town was so dull, so deprived until she came and made it new. She worked so hard, and she was so kind. And so beautiful. Her face was simply angelic, from the curve of her nose to the dip of her jaw. More precious than any delicate vase in his little antique shop. He could hardly imagine there was a time when these things of the past were important to him. Their beauty was plain; their history was meaningless. They held no sway like that of the charm of the vivacious Minori. She was captivating. A seductress, luring him from his quiet solitude between the dusty artifacts into her dazzling world of light.

Of course, Mistel had… noticed. Everyone _adored_ Minori. She was everyone's favorite little kitten. All of the men filthily eyed her, the women doted on her with their shallow pleasantries. They wondered just how she did it – her crops were always the juiciest, her animals the most well-fed, her sales sky-rocketing and bringing new traders to their pathetically underwhelming little burb. What made her farm so special? What was her secret?

Mistel knew – they could never understand her. Not the way he did. They couldn't savor her essence like he had. He had listened and hung onto every word of her lilting voice, watched her every graceful movement, submitted to whatever whim she could have. He was the only one who _truly_ loved Minori.

Every day, he would wait for night to come. Long, hideous hours of ugly sunlight wasting him away until he could dream. In the dark, he was free to love her as much as he wanted, as much as he dared – in his mind. His sister thought he was ill. Thought he was fatigued. She couldn't understand he needed to sleep to be close to Minori. To be where he belonged. The waking world cruelly kept them apart.

For now.

He would have her. Only he _deserved_ her. He knew what she was worth. Only he could cherish her. There was no one who could love Minori as much as Mistel did.

For too long he waited in the quiet. For too long he was in her shadow. Watching in passivity as she slipped further from him. Towards other people, other interests, other places. It wasn't her fault – it was the way of the world. It took people away. As an orphan, he knew that better than anybody. But Mistel knew how to beat it. To fight that magnetic pole of opposition and _keep things as they were_.

The light of her little house was on. She was inside. Settling down to supper, no doubt. He wished to try her cooking. She was so talented in all things. He took in a deep breath of mountain air, hoping to catch her scent on the breeze. That faint, feminine taste.

Mistel knew she would be grateful once she knew. Once he could show her. How much he worshipped her. He loved every last pitiful trait, every countless mannerism. The sweep of her rich colored hair. The soft flutter of her heart, gentle as a bird's. The warmth of her labored breath. The large, dilated eyes melting their gaze with his own…

It would be so wonderful for her. To have someone so devoted, so thoroughly at her mercy. So content with their forever. He would do absolutely anything for his love. And as the fairytales often told: there was _nothing_ stronger than true love.

He was the embodiment of this power. And it was all for her. He had spent weeks, months – preparing for this day. But he was finally ready. To make her his.

The lock was child's play. Mistel knew she kept a spare key in the lantern by the door – of _course_ he knew. With the thrilling hesitation one might find in someone taking the first big step towards a new future, Mistel turned the key and allowed himself inside.

It was only fair. Minori _had_ to know how Mistel felt. Rejection never crossed his mind – not from _his_ Minori. He felt she knew it already. He belonged to her as much as she did to him. Their love would finally be equal, reciprocated. Together with her, he would stop feeling like a slave to his devotion. This downtrodden disease would at last be released from his burden, and they'd share one another for all time. When the mountains crumbled and their bones ground to dust, they alone would go on. Nothing in all the world was as pure, as good, as infallible as Minori and Mistel.

His mouth twitched upwards in an involuntary smile. He mused that she couldn't make an ugly face. He loved that about her. Even her fright was alluring. So innocent, so adorable. The way surprise filled up her cheeks, rose her brow. Opened her dainty little mouth in a perfect circle. Fear could not mar her features, even as her hair tangled and her sleeve tore.

There wasn't much of a chase. They collided and hit the floor, tumbling in a whirl. They planted with a bang. His hands were in her hair, tracing the soft line down her neck. So _real._ The blood thundering in her veins beneath his palm. Here she was before him. In the flesh. _Finally._ His dreams come alive. So sweet, so beloved. His Minori.

This was euphoria. Those dear hands – so like porcelain - were holding _him!_ So close, so intimately. Until black spots dotted the colors of his vision, and his breath hitched.

"I…" he croaked, his voice breaking as joyful tears filled his glassy eyes. He didn't raise a hand against her, didn't fight for his life. He only welcomed her touch. His shoulders arched in reaction to the pain, but his gaze never broke from hers. "…help… you…"

Those plump, rosy lips curled into the most heavenly smile Mistel had ever seen. He wanted to burn it into his memory forever. He wanted it to be the last thing he ever saw. His wish was granted.

His hand fell from her with a thud. His loving caress still desperately twitching in the tips of his fingers, seeking her skin. Minori bent from where she had straddled him – pinning him down – to place a kiss upon his pale lips.

The tears finally spilled out the sides of his wide, vacant eyes. The pupils grew round and sticky. Stillness.

She waited. She felt no breath. Minori rose and slowly, meticulously unfurled her fingers from his neck. There were dark reddish bruises forming in the shape of her hands underneath. Minori sat back quite heavily on his stomach, crossing her arms and watching as the lips she had kissed tinted a light blue. She hummed in thought to herself.

She knew there had been a rat. Someone watching her a little too closely, knowing what they shouldn't. For too long, she had been worried over what to do about it. It was quite convenient for him to show up like this, babbling about being in love with her or something. She supposed she should've seen this coming from Mistel – the town recluse. He always gave her the creeps. But she didn't know it had escalated to this. No matter. It was taken care of. And help her, he would.

Minori finally got to her feet and took Mistel up around the ankles, dragging him with practiced ease.

* * *

"Minori! Good morning!"

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Minori rose from her garden bed at the call. She squinted with a hand as her visor against the harsh light and found a familiar silhouette. She removed her thick leather gloves and dusted off her skirt. She waved to return the greeting. "Hello, Miss Veronica! Lovely morning!"

"Yes, it's a beautiful day," Veronica smiled cheerily, looking out over the farmer's full field of growing veggies. "Planting something new?"

"No, just… fertilizing," Minori beckoned her head to a pail of dark, almost soup-like, liquid compost. She shrugged and tossed her gloves aside, adding: "and a bit of weeding. What are you up to?"

"Just making my rounds. I have high hopes for you in the upcoming competition!" The mayor gallantly praised. She tilted her head in curiosity. "I just thought I'd stop by to see how things are going. Are you preparing?"

Minori plucked a bright red tomato from the vine, the heavy fruit readily falling into the palm of her hand at the peak of its harvest. She crossed the length of her field into the grass where Veronica met her off the path. She held out the tomato to her. "See for yourself!"

Veronica accepted it and turned it over in her hand. Not a blemish. She held it to her lips and relished that earthy, potent scent still lingering from the plant. She took a bite and quickly held up her free hand to catch the juice that dribbled down her chin. She audibly hummed in pleasure, chewing and swallowing quickly. "Delightful! Absolutely marvelous! I'd say it's… perfect!"

The farmer bashfully swung her arms behind her back, blushing at her shoes. Veronica turned the fruit upright to avoid further spills and cleaned her hand on her starched apron.

"You have the best products in all the valley! Minori, _how_ do you do it?"

Minori's eyes brightened in pride and a little mischief, her secret safe and sound. She held a finger to her lips to demonstrate this, childishly giggling at all of the praise she was receiving for her hard work. "Oh, you know… just good, old-fashioned tender love and care."

* * *

 **A/N:** And there ya have it! I always got the creeps from Mistel; he's totally a yandere in game already, so it was fairly easy writing him as such a psycho. But it was even more fun twisting Minori into someone so diabolical. Eda was probably her first, ehehe. Beware of shining vegetables! Happy Halloween~


End file.
